


you were the top of the mountain that i couldn’t see from below

by brooklynapple



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Companion Piece, Dorte - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooklynapple/pseuds/brooklynapple
Summary: Marianne steps forward into the slant of a sunbeam piercing through the overhead canopy. She tilts her face upward to meet its warmth and closes her eyes. Hilda swallows and reminds herself to breathe. She has never been religious, but some kinds of faith and devotion have nothing to do with the Church of Seiros.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	you were the top of the mountain that i couldn’t see from below

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to stave's claurenz fic [someone you cannot live without](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019874). When Marianne showed up in the second part, I couldn't help but imagine how Hilda gave her that ring. You don't need to read the original fic to enjoy this one, but I hope you do - stave's writing is gorgeous.

“Almost there, it’s right down this trail.” They have been riding for the better part of two hours, out the gates of Derdriu and along the coast towards the mountains and Edmund territory. The coastal scrub along the cliffside has given way to dense forest with the tallest trees Hilda has ever seen, rising hundreds of feet above the sun-dappled path. She looks up at them in wonder, while Marianne rides with a serene smile, at home in the woodlands where she’d spent so much of her childhood.

Hilda leads the way down a barely-marked side path and rides for a few minutes more before dismounting with a sigh of relief. She leads her horse through an arch cut into the trunk of a massive tree that straddles the trail, and emerges in a grove ringed by the same giant sequoias. It smells of loam, pine needles and salty ocean tang, and the distant crash of waves blends with the trickle of a nearby stream to accompany birdsong from the branches high above. 

Sliding down from Dorte’s saddle, Marianne looks around in quiet awe. “It feels like the Garreg Mach cathedral here, somehow…how did you find this place?” Hilda has picketed her horse in a shady spot and is watching Marianne with a soft smile. “Ignatz told me about it. He’s been doing a lot of exploring lately. And you have to admit that this would make quite a painting.”

Marianne steps forward into the slant of a sunbeam piercing through the overhead canopy. She tilts her face upward to meet its warmth and closes her eyes. Hilda swallows and reminds herself to breathe. She has never been religious, but some kinds of faith and devotion have nothing to do with the Church of Seiros. She takes a blanket from her horse’s saddlebag and spreads it in a sunny patch on the ground, letting Marianne finish her private communion with the forest.

“It’s so beautiful here, Hilda. Thank you.” The sunlight flashes on the opalescent moon pendant at Marianne’s neck as she walks to Hilda’s side, leaning in to softly kiss her cheek. Hilda wraps her arms around Marianne’s waist and they stand there for a moment, basking. 

“I wanted to find the perfect place to bring you.” Hilda cannot quite mask the slight tremor underneath her casually affectionate tone. Marianne notices, and lifts her head from the crook of Hilda’s neck to study her face. “Hilda, anywhere is perfect when I’m with you. This place, it’s magical, but you didn’t have to go to all the trouble…”

“No, this time I did.” Hilda reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small lacquered box. “I only get one chance to give you this.” She presses it into Marianne’s hand. Marianne looks down at the box, comprehension dawning. A moment passes, then two. The forest sounds wash over them.

“Go on, open it.” 

Marianne lifts the lid with trembling hands. The ring nestled inside gleams silver, with twin jewels in Goneril and Edmund colors resting in intricately wrought settings. She has kissed the rings on the hands of dukes, kings and bishops, glittering with precious metals and stones. This ring, simple, elegant and masterful, would rival any of them. 

She opens her mouth, but cannot make a sound. Raising her eyes from the box, she realizes that Hilda has sunk to one knee on the blanket.

“I know we’ve talked about this already, so it’s not much of a surprise. But I needed to do this properly. Marianne, I can’t imagine my life without you. You make me happy in ways I never even thought I could be. I love you, and I want to be here for you, always. Will you marry me?” 

Marianne loves many things about Hilda. She adores her boldness and laughter, her courage, her unswerving loyalty, how she never uses one word when ten will do. Marianne delights in finding the truth of Hilda within her many contradictions - strong yet delicate, lazy yet generous, biting and clever yet deeply caring. But it is Hilda’s sincerity, rarely expressed and only in private, that Marianne finds most disarming. She sinks to her knees, tears streaking her pink cheeks, and takes Hilda’s hands. 

“Yes, Hilda, of course, yes.” She is weeping now, blinking to clear her vision as Hilda takes her hand and reverently places the ring on her smallest finger. The tears on both of their cheeks mingle as they lean in for a kiss.

******************************

The late afternoon sun finds them curled together on the blanket, laughing and talking softly in between kisses. Hilda holds up Marianne’s hand to look yet again at the ring shining against her pale skin. “I will never get tired of seeing this. And of knowing that the whole world will see it.”

“I will never get tired of wearing it. Though before the world sees it, we should probably talk to our families…”

“I know I’m not the best at politics, but I did at least think of that. I asked Holst to write to your father last month.” Hilda clears her throat and continues in her best imitation of courtly propriety. “This match would be of great benefit not just to our two houses, but to our newly united nation and blah blah blah...your father loved it, and how could he refuse a request coming from the ‘esteemed heir to house Goneril’?” 

Marianne giggles. “You really arranged all of that yourself?”

“Okay so, maybe Claude helped a bit with the ‘getting Holst to talk to your father’ idea. And Lorenz had somehow already composed some draft language for Holst’s letter...I think his exact words when he handed it to me were ‘finally, I thought we were going to have to lock you two in a room with a priest!’” 

Marianne’s laughter echoes through the trees. “I’m glad they didn’t do that. This is much nicer.”

“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure we couldn’t fit both Dorte *and* the priest in one room. Maybe it’s silly, but I thought it was important to have Dorte here too. I told you, I planned it all out.”

“Hilda, it was perfect.” Her brown eyes shine with her appreciation and she gives Hilda a tender kiss. “Truly, this is my happiest day. I won’t ever forget it.”

Hilda knows that many of her companions have fought and struggled and bled and died over the past seven years for a vision of a new nation, a new future, for honor, for glory, for fellowship. Hilda is surprised by how much she has come to believe in these things too, but they are other people’s ideals, not hers. For Hilda, all of the battles, the hardship, the heartbreak, the *work* have led to this moment, have been for this woman, whose soft gaze here in this grove makes her chest ache and her hands tremble. She knows it’s selfish, but she has never doubted why she fought or what it was all for.

The setting sun as they ride back to Derdriu is mirrored on the choppy ocean swells, and paints the sky in oranges, pinks and purples. It reflects, too, on the ring they both keep glancing at, snug on Marianne’s hand that curls tightly around Dorte’s reins. It sparkles in Hilda’s pink eyes as she grins at her betrothed, thinking of Marianne’s blush after she spoke the word aloud for the first time. “I hope it’s not too embarrassing for you, because that’s how I’ll be referring to you from now on. ‘Have you met my betrothed, Marianne von Edmund?’ It has such a nice ring to it, no pun intended.”

Marianne laughs, and the radiant smile that lights up her face is all that Hilda ever wants to see from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also a loving homage to the redwood groves of my childhood in northern California. The tree with the arch you can ride/drive through really exists - [in fact there are at least three of them](https://www.visitredwoods.com/listing/drive-through-a-redwood/661/)!
> 
> The title is from [Midnight at the Lazarus Pit](https://genius.com/Quiet-company-midnight-at-the-lazarus-pit-lyrics) by Quiet Company, which also came to me by way of stave.
> 
> You can find me on Twitter at @quorniya, and as an admin of marihilda discord. <3


End file.
